


The Wonder of "After"

by StarsAndUniverses



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Hordak Redemption, Hordak-centric (She-Ra), Introspective Hordak, Post-Finale, Serial Hugger, Soft Hordak (She-Ra)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25322599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsAndUniverses/pseuds/StarsAndUniverses
Summary: Hordak's life had been a series of "afters". After he fixed his defect, after he proved himself to Horde Prime, after he conquered Etheria. With Horde Prime gone, Etheria given life, and a society of natives having suffered at his hand, "after" has suddenly become now, and it looks very different from anything he had ever imagined.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	1. The Child

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just gonna be spitting out Hordak blurbs because I have way too many ideas and feelings left over.

“Curse this confounded contraption!” 

A large hand clapped on his shoulder, nearly tumbling him to the floor.

“Now, now, friend, no need to get upset! We shall simply build another!”

“No!” Hordak pulled the small screen away from the Scorpion King, “The others do not function. This is the only one picking up readings!”

“Doesn’t that mean it’s probably the broken one?” a figure spoke from across the room, concealed by the darkness of the door frame.

“Ah, Shadow Weaver! Hordak, you’ve met our new sorceress, of course?”

Hordak glared at the cold, unfeeling mask. “We have met in passing. She is incorrect in doubting the results of the scan. This is the closest that your scientists have managed to replicate to the remains of my ship and as such, has the most accurate readings.” 

“And there is no chance the ship is faulty?”

“Absolutely not! The ship was designed by the almighty Horde Prime!” 

“Oh,” Shadow Weaver shrugged, turning to leave the room with a slimy, sarcastic step, “My apologies. I stand corrected.”

“Don’t worry about her. She’s like that with everyone.”

Hordak scowled at the spot he had last stood, the bitter aftertaste of her presence leeching at his patience, before turning back to regard the king. “Regardless, I wish to investigate these readings more closely. Whatever the source is, it could be of value.” To which of them it would be of value, he neglected to specify. 

“Of course, of course! I’ll have a transport prepared for you right away! Do you wish for anyone in particular to accompany you?”

“I am perfectly capable of handling myself. As you are aware, my combat and strategic knowledge is extensive.” 

This time, the clap on the shoulder did cause him to stumble into a table, but amidst his booming laughter, the King did not notice. 

“Oh, Hordak, you remind me so much of my daughter!” 

After all the time he’d spent with the Scorpions, Hordak figured it was too late to ask what a ‘daughter’ was. “Uh, thank you?”

With a command to a nearby soldier, the King went off on his way, leaving Hordak to his own.

* * *

Once he returned, he would have to discuss efficiency with the King. The system was nothing like Horde Prime’s had been, and as evidenced by how long it had taken to set up a single-person transport, Prime’s system had been infinitely better. 

“To be expected, of course,” Hordak spoke to no one but himself, brushing his hair back to how it had been before the breeze thwarted its uniformity.

He slowed his walking almost to a stop as he tried to pinpoint where the readings had been coming from. They were fluctuations, in what, he didn’t know, but it resulted in intermittent spikes of readings that were usually stagnant. 

The sky had begun to darken, but there were no stars to be seen. No matter how closely he observed or how far he would send exploration drones, there was nothing to be found off of this planet, almost as if nothing else existed. 

He shook the thought from his head - an expression he had learned from the King’s ‘daughter’ and had grown slightly fond of - as the readings came to a dead stop.

Hordak froze, regarding the screen with confusion. Not only had the spikes stopped, but even the natural readings of the planet were not being picked up. He looked around for any signs of irregularity, finding nothing obvious to explain the phenomenon. 

As the eerie silence set in, he became aware that the wind had stopped. The feathers of a bird were solid as rock as it floated frozen in the air mid-flap. Hordak realized that he couldn’t breathe.

All at once, an explosion, a force that he couldn’t try to quantify because he was desperately trying to get air back into his systems, pushed him back, flat onto the ground and buried in tall grass. As he pushed himself back up, he noticed his screen was gone but the scene in front of him washed any thought of it away. 

A portal, big and no more than a few paces in front of him, hummed and glowed over the grass, crackling with energy. Hordak stood up, wobbled to the portal, nearly throwing himself in because it was just like the one that had brought him-

There was a cry. Hordak stopped, close enough to touch the swirling particles with the barest reach of his hand. Another soft cry. 

He stepped back, searching for the sound that most certainly hadn’t been there before. Among the purple blades, he caught a glimpse of another color and approached it.

It was pink. It was a small, pink bundle of cloth and as he turned it over to inspect it, he found bright blue eyes staring back at him. It was so small and so strange, so unexpected when he’d already come here expecting anything, and it wasn’t until the small thing started laughing that he realized how ridiculous he must look with his eyes wide and ears flattened against his head.

He reached for it, picking it up like he had seen the King do with various small creatures that resembled this one. His brow furrowed as he shifted it within his arms to more closely mimic previous experiences, finally deciding on keeping it laid down and supported with mostly one arm. Awe overtook him as he poked at it, only to have it grab his finger with surprising strength for a tiny being. 

Behind him, he heard crackles and pops of energy, but he paid them no mind. The portal was destabilizing, flickering in and out of reality, but it did not worry him. “After all,” he spoke to it, wiggling his finger in and out of its grip, much to its chagrin, “if it opened once, it can be opened again.” 

He may have stepped over his scanner tablet on the way back to the transport. It was irrelevant, as was the portal, in that moment. He had to deliver this small being to the King. Perhaps he would still find it of value.


	2. Strong, Loyal, Great Hugs

“She seems to like her grandfather very much, doesn’t she?” 

Hordak sighed, cursing the universe for aligning itself in such a way that Shadow Weaver came into existence, “Are you talking about one of the soldiers?”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

Hordak merely turned to give her a skeptical look, carefully schooling his expression to reflect complete disinterest. The glimpse he caught of himself on the screen revealed that it seemed more like active hostility. He would have to work on that.

“I’m just saying, you wonder where she heard such fanatical tales if she has been raised under your regime.” 

“How is this worth my time, Shadow Weaver?”

A mocking bow was given as she prepared to slink off, “Merely assuring that we are not growing attached, my Lord.”

Hordak growled to himself, thanking Prime that she had enough sense to leave directly after. If the little scorpion princess believed the world of her grandfather, so be it. If she had found a path to Horror Hall that was mysteriously cleared, it was none of his concern. If she’d found an old picture or heard a tale being echoed by her fellow soldiers-in-training, it had nothing to do with him. 

Checking to assure that he was alone, he reopened the drawer he’d hurriedly closed upon Shadow Weaver’s arrival. When the princess entered formal training, he could not show bias. When she was a proper soldier, he would not do her the disservice of coddling her and weakening her spirit. 

He rolled up the scroll he’d written, containing within the remarkable battle of Crimodean, led by the legendary Scorpion King, who was the pride of his kingdom with his strength, loyalty, and great hugs. He tied it shut with a ribbon, handing it off to Imp for delivery to the cracks and crevices of the remains of Horror Hall. 

At war, kindness should not be fostered. Compassion should be culled. However, Hordak thought, as he stepped to what used to be the King’s halls and quarters, he’d been provided with so much since his arrival on Etheria. The King himself may be gone, but he’d died without Hordak having repaid his debts. If he could not do that, he would do the next best thing. 

And if sometimes, Hordak would unlock the door to the Black Garnet in the hopes that the young princess would wander in, if he silently hoped that she would reach to it and be able to see the memories of the King herself, well…

That was no one else’s concern, now was it?

* * *

“She’s a hugger,” they had warned him. When they’d finally realized that he meant it when he said he wished to help restore Etheria, and he had  _ finally _ been allowed to the meetings, it was the third thing in the  Comprehensive Guide to Surviving as an Ex-Tyrant the Alliance had presented to Catra and himself. The list had gone as follows:

  * Rule 1: Everyone might hate you at first. Don’t give them more reason.
  * Rule 2: Do not piss off Adora because she might randomly go She-Ra.
  * Rule 3: Anyone with problems with physical contact need to stay _far away_ from Scorpia. She’s a hugger. 



Hordak had been made particularly aware of the fact; he was a clone, after all, and aversion to contact - other than Entrapta’s - seemed to be ingrained in him as well. 

Alas, peace has dulled his senses, and one particularly unfortunate afternoon, when he’d decided a brief walk through the Forest was in order, he’d failed to consider that wherever there was nature, there was Perfuma. Wherever there was Perfuma, there was Scorpia.

She swept him up from behind, shaking him around like a stuffed toy and he was helpless to stop it.

“Oh, Lord Hordak! Well? Just Hordak now, I guess. B-but I am so proud of you for being good now! I’m so sorry you had to go through Horde Prime all over again, it was so awful, I’m sorry it happened to any of you but I’m so glad you’re working with us to help rebuild everything!”

The hug was tight, tight enough that Hordak could swear he heard his armor creak under the pressure, though barely over Scorpia’s ranting. The loud laughter, the sturdy embrace, the genuine joy and kindness she was showing, showing to  _ him _ out of everyone, it overwhelmed him with memories of the King.

“Oh no!” Scorpia loosened his grip instantly, careful not to let him collapse, “Did I hurt you? Oh, I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t mean to!” 

“You did not hurt me,” Hordak lied, “Why would you think so?” 

“Well, uh, it’s because, well,” she fumbled through a few more uncertain noises, “You’re kinda, uhm? Crying?” 

A wipe at his eyes proved that she had been right. Tears, few yet clearly there, trickled down his cheeks. He had no desire to explain but as she gently pet him with his claws, he found himself doing so anyways.

“You… you remind me very much of your grandfather.” 

“What? Really?” 

“He was a kind man,” Hordak nodded, “Very loyal and very strong. He ruled his kingdom well and raised his family just as commendably.”

Scorpia has kneeled down in front of him, eyes glittering in curiosity, waiting for him to continue.

After a moment’s consideration, Hordak regarded her, “Would you… like to hear more of him?”

“Do you think you could tell me? I just, I only ever heard stories but you actually knew him and that’s so amazing!” 

Hordak smiled to himself, silently grateful for his moments of weakness from so long ago. 

“I suppose I have nothing more to do today. Would you like to hear the story of the Battle of Crimodean from the perspective of his right hand general?” 

“Oh boy,” she clapped her claws together, “Would I ever!” 

Hordak paid Perfuma no mind as she sat down next to them, beginning to fashion a flower crown for each of the unlikely trio. He, after all, had a more important duty to attend to. Even when he grew tired as the sun dipped below the horizon, he found himself invigorated by the glittering of a million stars in the sky and wonder on the face of the little Scorpion princess.


	3. An Individual

The dining table had been all but abandoned as the call to clean up had been made. He, clone of the Almighty Horde Prime, had stayed, as the King had, to tend to the plates and cutlery, as humble persons often do. At least, he himself was stacking used dishes to take to the “kitchen” - by now, he was fairly certain it was the origin of the strange food they’d been consuming - as King conversed with the last few stragglers. Passing by, he heard a lost snippet of conversation. 

“-then I told him that if he wanted the support of our kingdom, he would have to do better than offer his dainty little trinkets!”

“Augustus, I can’t believe you! I would’ve thought you to be more diplomatic than that!” 

“It was in jest, Madelyn, he understood just fine! Now, go check the barracks before the soldiers make a mess of them again.”

No later than Commander of the 5th Regiment had left the room, clone of the Almighty Horde Prime turned to King, overcome by his curiosity and confusion. “Excuse me, King, but might I ask you something?” 

“Certainly, friend!”

“If you are King then why did that woman call you something else?” 

King stopped to take the growing stack of plates and began to take them to the mysterious “kitchen.” 

“What do you mean?”

“She called you Augustus. But that is not who you are. You are King.” 

“I may be the king-” He shot a confused look- “But I am still myself. Augustus is my name.”

“What is a name?” 

King Augustus paused, looking at the ceiling with a furrowed brow. “It is who I am. It is what I’m called. It makes me unique, different from everyone else.”

“Like Horde Prime? Is that a name?” 

“Yes,” the king sighed, suddenly weary beyond his years, “But what is yours?” 

“I am a clone of the great and exalted Horde Prime, ruler of the known universe.” 

“Well,” the king laughed, “that seems a bit long to call you every time. Who are  _ you _ ?”

“I… I’m a clone.” 

The king’s brow furrowed harder as he tried to convey his words. “You are from the Horde, correct?”

“Yes.” 

“Then you are a Horde… soldier? A member?”

“An acolyte!” He wasn’t sure where he’d heard the word before but it felt right. “I am a Horde acolyte.” 

“Horde acolyte. Do you mind if I shorten it to Hordac?” 

The clone clutched the stack of plates to his chest, wincing at the title. “I… I am not meant to have a name.”

Augustus smiles conspiritally, pulling him in by the shoulder. “Then we won’t call it a name. It will just be you.” 

“That sounds-” Hordac nodded softly- “Agreeable.” 

“Welcome to the Scorpion Kingdom, then, Hordac!” 

* * *

“I’d think that for an intergalactic soldier, you’d have more patience.” 

Hordac felt shame bloom in his chest as the sorceress mocked him from across the table. He’d never needed to learn a new language before; The knowledge would simply appear in his head through the hivemind. 

Imagine his surprise when he went through what could be salvaged of his ship only to find he couldn’t actually understand any of it! What was written didn’t make sense. He could understand the most common words and phrases but he was unable to connect them to their glyphs. He could speak it well enough but couldn’t understand it being talked back to him, rendering any recorded instructions or logs useless. 

King Augustus had put some linguists on the job and a few days later, they’d worked with Hordac enough to make a key. That left only the matter of learning it. 

“It’s strange that you find it this difficult. You know it, after all.” 

His mind wasn’t made for this. The others, the Etherians, they thrived off of learning, but Hordac had never had to try. Every other engineer and worker had learned the alphabet just fine and was already working on decoding documents. Hordac was the only one who was still struggling. 

“You misspelled your name, you know.” Shadow Weaver jibed from across the room, “You spelled it with k at the end.” 

As Hordak lifted the pencil in his hand with the full intent to aim it for an eye hole in her mask, a strong hand came down on his shoulder. 

“Well, Shadow Weaver, it’s his name! If that’s how he spells it, then you’re wrong, not him!” 

Augustus winked at him and mouthed encouragement as Shadow Weaver’s distaste rolled off of her in waves. 

Hordak nodded, simply crossing out his name from the document to replace it with the new spelling. Sometimes, decisions had to be taken for the sake of inconveniencing those you dislike. The time it would take him to remember the new spelling would be worth the ire of the insufferable sorceress for having forced her to be wrong.

* * *

“Actually, his name is Hordak!” 

The clone, identical to all the others, looked at Entrapta with wide green eyes, having forgotten her existence while focused on one of his kind. After so long on Etheria, Hordak had forgotten how invisible anyone outside of the Horde could be, especially without an extended consciousness running through them. 

“What does she mean, brother?” 

Hordak placed his hand on Entrapta’s shoulder before she could speak again; She didn’t know the lack of knowledge she’d brought up. 

“They call me Hordak. It is the name I have chosen for myself. No one else has it and it marks me as an individual. Everyone outside of the Horde has them and now I have one too.” 

“We are not individuals. We are clones of the Almighty Horde Prime,” The clone lowered his tone dangerously, “Do you reject his all-knowing guidance?”

“Yes,” Hordak provided simply, mentally preparing himself for the fallout of his announcement. 

By the time he turned around to see his brother’s reaction, the clone had already left.

* * *

“Adora,” Hordak walked up to the table, “There is… an issue within the clone population.”

She looked up from the map, an eyebrow quirked, “What? Why?”

Hordak clenched his fists and looked to the ground, “They don’t listen to me. They refuse to take orders from…” 

A traitor. A mistake. A malfunction. A defect, an exile, a poor lost thing who’d been tricked into believing he had a soul-

“From you?” Adora asked after a few beats of silence. 

Hordak forced himself to look at the table in front of him, sturdy and grounded in reality unlike his thoughts, “Precisely. I cannot change their minds.” 

Adora snickered, quickly coughing to cover it up, “You know, that’s kinda funny. Well, weird. I’m so used to taking orders from you, I almost can’t imagine someone refusing to.” 

A smirk pulled at Hordak’s lips and a quip slipped from them before he could stop it, “Isn’t that what you did?” 

Surprisingly, Adora seemed to contemplate the words before stumbling out her own, “I didn’t think about it. When I left, I wasn’t thinking that I was disobeying you, I was just thinking about right and wrong and what I believed. Then I was trying to figure out how to save my friends and my new home.” 

She offered him a smile as she continued, “You’re a good leader. You always have been. Maybe you weren’t doing good things, but you were doing them well. Why do you think I made you lead the clones in the first place?”

“That was you? I thought Entrapta-”

“You didn’t know anything. When you got to Etheria, you were just as clueless as every one of those clones out there. But you made an empire out of it, a strong one, that no one had any doubt in. I didn’t for a long time,” She placed her hands down on the table sternly, “So why won’t they listen to you?” 

His arm moved without asking him and his hand curled until there was a single finger pointed right at his bright red eyes. 

“They will not even call me by my name.” 

The shift in her eyes was subtle, a stray ray of light and a reflection that glowed lightly, but Hordak could still see when she became more She-Ra than Adora. The stern brow, dutiful in a way that stretched beyond time and space, looked up at him as she spoke in a voice that Hordak could swear echoed in his mind.

“I’ll talk to them. Don’t worry about it.” 

It felt like staring at a sun, looking She-Ra in the eyes, and he glanced down as quickly as possible. “Thank you, She-Ra.” 

The doubt in her face felt too much like a mirror as she thought, almost audibly, “Which am I?” From experience, Hordak knew that no answer would ever feel like the correct one. 

“Thank you, Adora,” he corrected, gently, because Adora was to her as Hordak was to him, a comfort, whether true or not, and her face lifted and brightened, as he’d expected. With another nod, he turned heel and left the room, no doubt in his mind that by the next day, he’d have no problems with being called Hordak.

* * *

“Brother! Brother!” The call was common among the clone barracks, for obvious reasons, enough so that Hordak didn’t even register it as he fiddled with wires on a damaged bot. It wasn’t until a loud cry of “Brother Hordak!” that he finally turned around to see what the fuss was about. 

In a sea of white cloaks and skin, the offender stood out more than Hordak at the Princess Alliance meetings. A little part of him curled in disgust when he realized that the colorful disaster running towards him - in all honesty, who helped this clone pick that wardrobe? - was more of a sight for sore eyes to the former warlord. The princesses’ cheeriness must be rubbing off on him. 

“Brother Hordak, it’s an honor- no, a pleasure to finally meet you! I’ve heard much about you from Sister Entrapta and Sister Adora!” 

“And have you, by any chance, met Sis- Perfuma?” Hordak eyed the clone’s flowy summer dress and mismatched leggings with ire. Taking in the dress, legging, makeup, and accessories - a necklace, a headband, little bow hair clips - there were no less than 3 different types of flower patterns and four unique shades of green.

“Yes, indeed I have! Sister Perfuma helped me pick my cloth garments! Aren’t they wonderful?” 

“They are certainly…  _ colorful _ .” 

Nuance lost, the clone simply made a noise of glee and continued on, “Oh, thank you, Brother Hordak! Your words mean more to me than you know! In fact, I’ve come to you for advice!”

Shutting the panel on the side of the bot, Hordak looked to his odd visitor questioningly, “What kind of advice?” 

“Well, I’ve taken measures to distinguish myself from our brothers. As you can see, I’ve adorned myself with cloth, I’ve learned various facial expressions, and I harbor highly traitorous thoughts! But I’ve been told that the ultimate test of individuality is a name! Until now, I’ve simply been called Wrong Hordak, and so I asked who Hordak was, and Sister Entrapta told me of you and your story and-”

“Okay,” Hordak interrupted, for the sake of time and his ears, “What did you wish to ask?” 

“I wished to know how you chose your name! Perhaps you can even help choose my own!” 

Hordak pet the newly-fixed bot and watched as it scuttled off to do whatever its assignment was. Wiping his hands on a rag, he turned once more to the temporarily nameless clone. 

“I did not choose my name entirely. It was suggested for convenience by a-” a beat passed as Hordak’s mind failed to offer up a proper description of King Augustus “-a friend of mine. I was still under the impression that having a name would be blasphemous. In fact, I respect you greatly for having reached the level of complexity with your thoughts so soon after disconnecting from the hivemind. It took me much longer.” 

“I cannot take full credit for it!” Although trying to appear humble, the quickness with which his ears perked up made it obvious how much the compliment meant to him, “I had my friends to help me and show me that Horde Prime was merely a charlatan, deceiving the masses!” 

Hordak barked out laughter at that, shocking himself and anyone nearby. “I don’t know why the statement shocks me if I already agree.” 

The other clone’s laugh was more akin to a giggle than any sound Hordak would make but he didn’t find the noise grating. Stepping back to look at the specimen in front of him, in all his mismatched, multicolored, princess-infected glory, he considered that  _ this _ was the closest to a brother he’d ever had. 

“One important factor of a name is your inspiration. You will most likely take a good while to decide, for there are many options. Is there any topic or idea you had in mind to draw your name from?” 

The blank face he received in return was enough of an answer. 

“Well, come then,” Hordak stood and brushed dust off himself, “Allow me to demonstrate what I mean, brother.” 

They were a sight, an ex-general donning dark jewel tones and mechanical augments walking alongside a skipping, giggling, complete child with a fierce rebellious streak. They parted the crowds of the other clones like a shark would part a school of fish, and Hordak gently realized that the guilt of being an individual weighed on him no longer. 


End file.
